


Return To Sender

by PoliceAdamNow



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, halward meta, unsafe cookie making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:12:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoliceAdamNow/pseuds/PoliceAdamNow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian’s happy. He is really. He’s got lovely friends. He’s a major part of probably the most important archaeological discovery in the past century. He’ll be remembered for ages! And on top of all that he’s getting married to someone who actually loves him. And is also a man (very important note). Life couldn’t be more perfect. Except for the fact that his fiancé has invited Dorian’s father to the wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return To Sender

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh where to begin! First off thank you so much to everyone who put this MB together it's been such a blast. Thank you so so much to my beautiful artists!! [Mirabel](http://mirabel-chan.tumblr.com/) and [Merm-Aight](http://merm-aight.tumblr.com) I can't thank you two enough for being so kind and encouraging!! Seriously look how lovely this art is!! I'm super happy to have been a part of this amazing event. Please enjoy my little fic! (And the perfect art!)  
>   
> 

 

 

The day had started off so well. Dorian and Sera had been trying on the most ridiculous sunglasses they could find in some tourist trap shop. They were having a grand time relaxing in modern civilization. Sera was sticking out her bottom lip, puffing out her cheeks--wearing the most putrid green coloured shuttershades--and snorting out a “Ain’t I the prettiest!”. Dorian was smirking planning out his next expression to best her with and to match with the oval housewife style faded yellow glasses he picked. He was distracted by Bull walking towards them with a blank expression, meaning his ‘everything is fine, act along with me that everything is fine’ face. When Bull was close enough, Dorian held up one finger to wag at him.

“No, nope. I know that look. If you have bad news I don’t want to hear it.” Dorian put on the glasses and peered over the top of them at his fiancé. Bull’s face cracked a small smile, he rolled his eyes and stepped forward to wrap an arm around Dorian’s waist. Dorian turned away and leaned back against the solid chest, he replaced the yellow glasses and spun the display looking for more hideous eyewear as an attempt to ignore Bull leaning down to whisper in his ear. The brush of scared lips and warm breath still sent shivers of anticipation down his spine, one of the many reasons he was marrying the big lug, he supposed.

 

“Want to get outta here, Sweetheart?”

Dorian quirked a brow while Sera made a sound similar to farting and stalked off to pay for the green shades. A chance to return to hotel while the others were away and finally have some privacy was tempting but…Turning around Dorian patted Bull’s chest. “Eager aren’t we?” He crooked a finger and bid The Bull to follow him back out on to the busy street before continuing, “As much as I’d love to spend some time alone with you that won’t result in catcalls from my coworkers the next morning--”

“You like the praise.” The Iron Bull grinned and did a thing that might be a wink but Dorian was never quite sure, he just knew Bull thought it was charming. It was, Dorian just hadn’t felt like inflating the man’s ego. He sent an unamused look at his fiancé and started down towards his favourite cafe.

“As I was saying.” He felt Bull slide up to walk beside him and the presence of a large hand slip into the back pocket of his jeans. Clearing his throat loudly, he spoke again. “As. I. Was. Saying. You don’t look to be in the mood for a quick tumble. All fake signals aside.” He pulled the hand out of his pocket and interlocked his own fingers with The Bull’s. Bull frowned down at the handholding but squeezed back and rubbed his thumb against Dorian’s.

“I, uh, did a thing…” Bull seemed stiffer than usual, he wasn’t one to give off obvious body signals. Dorian began to feel worry crawl inside him but pushed it down, Bull had never before caused him alarm so what was there to worry about?

“What thing was this? Not something like,” Dorian waved a hand in air, grasping for any sort of thing that could worry the unshakable man he loved. “Quitting the dig?”

Bull started, “No! Hell no! Steadiest job me and the boys had in ages. Also, no way I’m leaving your sweet little--”

“The boys and I.”

“What. Oh. Sure.”

Dorian sighed in relief at the resolve of his brief bout of paranoia. They were nearly to the cafe and Bull upon seeing their destination, tugged on Dorian’s hand.

“Here, let’s eat and I’ll tell you about the thing.”

Dorian didn’t feel very hungry now.

 

****\------** **

 

Dorian was angry, so fucking angry. He was hurting and scared but the anger kept flaring up and overwhelming him. Like waves crashing against a sailor lost at sea, unrelenting and suffocating. He runs from his house down the streets and boulevards and doesn’t stop running, clenching his teeth and panting out of rage rather than lack of breath.

_You are no son of mine._

Dorian hides himself in a park, it’s large and silent. It being the middle of the night: no one was around and he sat on a patch of grass staring up at the constellations. White knuckled grip pulling grass, arms pressed close to his sides, pushing past the anger. The night stretches on and minutes become hours and the cool air soothes the flush of hate in his cheeks. With the hate cooling it twists into shame. He’s never actually cried in his life, must have as a child but never from feeling gut wrenching pain. He covers his face with both hands and his shame finally evolves into grief, terrified tears leak out and it’s not beautiful or tragic just ugly and leaves him raw.

His father had known, all Dorian’s life so Dorian never thought to really hide it. It wasn’t talked about mostly because Dorian couldn’t imagine possible scenarios which those conversations would even be brought up naturally. So the topic, in Dorian’s mind, just became neutral. Your son likes men. An accepted and non important fact of the family. But he was wrong, underestimated the situation, and was blind to storm brewing inside his father.

The crescendo came when they returned one evening from a routine family outing of wining and dining with their fellow elites. There in the foray, removing coats and gloves for the waiting servants, Dorian in passing had mentioned a boy that was at the party. He wasn’t sure but it must have been his tone in how he said the other boy’s name. He was, afterall, a childhood friend turned crush. The first for Dorian really. But seeing his father’s shuttered face, feeling the ringing silence and the stillness from both his mother and the servants; Halward’s cold answer changed everything. In what must of been nothing more than a few minutes, it became clear to Dorian how his parents, _his father_ , truly felt. There was nothing neutral, nothing tolerant. Out of shock, blindsided by the change in moods of the evening--just from the mere mention of a boy, someone his parents knew--he had shouted back. Screamed like he’d never had before, part of him hoping if he yelled hard and loud enough, his father would yell back instead of using that controlled even tone. Every feeling, everything not said in all his years poured out confused, scared and wounded on their immaculate tiled floors.

_I will always feel like this-_

__

_Think of your future-_

__

_This is never going to change-_

__

_Throwing everything away for what-_

__

_I need this to feel whole-_

__

_Strive to be better than temptation-_

__

_Why can’t you accept this, I’m your son-_

__

_You are no son of mine._

__

Silence again.

_Do you mean that._

The crickets were too loud in this park, but it was so far away from the house. A silly place to hide and it made him feel childish, so he planned his next steps, his future. He ran through a list of names of friends, schoolmates, then reorganized the list by whose parents would be the least likely to throw him back to the wolves. He comes up with very few names left and they are...unreliable at best. He rolled his eyes at his thoughts of ‘I’m so alone’, like some teenage cliché he was turning out to be. It was not typically cold this time of year but the chill was eating at him and hours keep going by.

The sky lightens when his father finally finds him. Dorian heard steps approaching and didn’t know if he was praying for them to be a strangers or his kin. He doesn’t look up when he father stands in front of him, stares at his feet--mud and dust covering his father’s good dress shoes--curled in on himself. Halward had dropped to his knees, the action so sudden that Dorian’s eyes betrayed him and found himself eye to eye with his father, imperfect, scared, all sharp lines and clean edges gone. A scared old man, hands gently raised to cup Dorian’s face. “My son, my son.” Whispered so quietly, over and over again. They sat together and neither watched the sunrise, too lost in thought, eyes unseeing. He asked him to come home. He didn’t apologize, didn’t make excuses. Dorian didn’t like it, sometimes hated it, the pass he gave him. But the relief he had felt at seeing his father...He wasn’t sure he wanted to lose that. Afterall, his father did love him. Not all of him, but enough. And Dorian felt the same towards him. _I love you but not all of you, not yet._ He hopes and waits. Even though it hurts.

So Dorian doesn’t stop his life, meets a variety of men over the years, some lovely some not. But he keeps his heart close and visits his parents and when asked how he’s carrying on he smiles and keeps his answers short. They know, he knows and they don’t speak of it. It’s the type of thing that will gnaw at him late at night, drunk or any stage of vulnerability. But he loves his father and his father loves him.

 

****\------** **

 

 

They sat in the main room having already ordered their usual. The cafe was a local place but it was an odd hour of the day for a proper meal so only a few other people were sitting enjoying a cold drink and watching the game on the old tv that hung precariously in the far corner. Dorian was stirring the sugar into his coffee--being from a country with a warmer climate made him near immune to the oppressive heat here so he often enjoyed warm drinks and food, to the annoyance of his coworkers--watching Bull gaze down at the table, tapping at it with one hand. Dorian could recall one time when The Bull had ever been nervous. But it had been short lived and ended with them deciding to spend the rest of their lives together. By the look of concentration on the other’s face, Dorian doubted the results of this conversation being pleasant.

Bull stopped tapping, finally making eye contact just as Dorian took his first sip of the delicious brew. “I sent a letter.”

Dorian hummed as he finished his sip and brushed his thumb over his mustache. “A letter, how darling. I wasn’t aware people still willingly did such things. You are aware it will take at least a month to get anywhere?”

Bull nodded, slow and steady not breaking eye contact. “Yeah, I wanted time. Needed time actually. Wanted to talk with you to get it all figured out.”

Dorian rubbed the back of his hand over his brow. “You know this whole cryptic schtick your playing at isn’t helping soften whatever blow you’re about to deliver.” He felt preemptively angry now just at how this conversation was going. He was startled when he felt Bull gently place his hand--the one with the stubbed fingers that Dorian had often stroked and kissed as they laid in bed together--over Dorian’s.

“I sent a letter to your parents inviting them to our wedding.”

Dorian stopped being able to hear. All sound faded away and was replaced with a ringing. He felt cold yet his heart was beating too fast. His hands felt numb; the sound his chair made as it scraped back from the table alerted Dorian to the fact that he was standing now. Hands braced on the table. He looked at Bull, not truly seeing him and not sure what his own face must be conveying. And then yelled, “WHAT.”

 

 

**\------**

 

Dorian had one rule. In his desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control over his life he had stuck to this rule. Because if he didn’t he loses the only thing he ever truly cared about, his father. His rule was: Don’t fall in love.

It’s often crap, their relationship but it’s comfortable crap. Something he’s used to and can almost rely on. Dorian wasn’t ready to lose him. Not yet. So he stuck to his rule because he didn’t want to shatter that truce, didn’t want an answer to _Do you mean that_.

Then The Iron Fucking Bull ruined his life by falling in love with him. Yay on him.

**\------**

 

They were naturally shooed out of the cafe by a tiny old man yelling at Dorian’s disturbance, still stunned and now entirely pissed Dorian yelled back. Now all he could think about as he swiftly rushed through the traffic of people to return to his motel was ‘I can never show my face there again, my favourite cafe. Fuck.’ He could hear Bull attempting to catch up with him--hear the sounds of Bull trying to squeeze through the sea of people and apologizing smoothly in the native language of the area. He had almost broken into a run when he finally saw the front of the motel. Entering what passed as a lobby for the place he nearly knocked over Varric. Varric whistled a low ‘whoa there’ as Dorian moved on without a second thought.

“Hey Tiny, what’s gotten into our esteemed Dr. Sparkler, wedding jitters?”

Dorian gritted his teeth, pretending to not care about Bull’s response but still hearing it all the same just as he turned the corner for the stairwell.

“Not now, Varric.” Bull’s voice was far off now but the growl in his tone had Dorian lose a little steam.

Anger was so easy for Dorian, not that he regularly used it but it was so easy to fall back on as a defense. It had worked for him most of his academic career and it was just old habits playing out at the moment. When he first met Bull, he had been a bitter man with something to constantly prove. They had eventually taught each other how to survive in other ways, like actually talking. It hadn’t been easy for either of them but they found themselves putting in the effort because despite the odds, they had each found someone to love in a damp, miserable jungle.

Dorian stopped in front of their shared room and leaned his head against the cheap wooden door. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. He did love Bull, it was difficult for him to admit sometimes as his life up until that realization had been so closed off. Any emotions or intense feelings had been poured into his work: this discovery. It had been the first time in a long time that he had felt himself feeling that strongly for a person, like that person could be his greatest achievement. Something to be proud of for the rest of his life. He pushed back the thoughts of Felix, of home.

He felt when the Bull was finally standing beside him, waiting quietly and patiently for Dorian to probably open the door. Dorian did just that and reached back to grab for his fiancé. Once locked safely in their room, Dorian whirled on Bull, expression twisted and ready to speak his mind. But his whole being stuttered at the sight of Bull’s face. Soft, sad but the moment they made eye contact a determination filled The Bull’s frame. Dorian couldn’t help thinking this was going to be a long night.

**\------**

“And this is Dr. Dorian Pavus. He prefers to be called by his first name with the exception of interns and students, likes the sound of his own voice and thinks he can just use his looks to get what he wants.”

Dorian was seated at his makeshift desk, bent over the day’s scan read outs and comparing them to last weeks when he hears Cassandra’s even toned introduction. He had heard her approach and the sound of someone following her; most likely a new intern that was hoping for high adventure with a handsome and charming professor. Handsome and charming Dorian certainly was but that’s about it. They soon become disenchanted and left, didn’t help the main crew couldn’t offer academic credit nor even pay them. Cole was the only actual intern left and no one even knew why he wanted to stay. He sensed Cass and the intern near him so he stuck out a hand half heartedly not bothering to look away from his readouts.

“You forgot ‘Youngest and most handsome expert in dead cultures currently in the field’, Cassandra, but I’ll give you points for effort.” He heard Cass grumble out a ‘As you can see...’ and then was very distracted by the decidedly not young, soft handed handshake of an over zealous intern.

The hand wrapped around his was large and strong, callouses present like hands that have been everywhere (oh the thoughts...just from a handshake, Dorian had been in the jungle far too long). The grip was friendly but there was strength behind it. Dorian slowly turned his head and took in the hand--big, strong--then careful gazed up making sure to quirk an eyebrow to give a haughty expression to cover a social awkwardness that may have passed. Definitely not an intern. The man was tall, dark and...rugged. Mr. Not Intern was bald but clearly by choice, deliciously tan, covered in scars even on his face and there was light sheen of sweat from the jungle's humidity on his frankly impressive naked chest. Dorian's mind betrayed him by finding all that scarred (many faint from age and hidden) dark expanse of sweaty skin appealing. The man's face was not what most would at first call handsome what with the healed broken nose and the messy stubble but the dark pink eye patch looked unfortunately dashing. Dark tattoos covered the man's shoulders down to his wrists, Dorian identified them as Islander tribal but beyond that he had no clue if they meant more. The sheer size of him overall had Dorian clearing his throat.

 ****

Dorian realized he was still shaking the man’s hand and judging from Cassandra’s unimpressed expression, yes it had been awkward. He coolly pulled his hand away and avoided looking at the man’s wide grin by addressing Cass.

“And here I thought you were attempting to pawn off another intern on me, Cassandra you shouldn’t have. He’s a lovely present.” The man let out a bark of what must have been laughter.

Cass snorted and rolled her eyes. “He’s part of our new security detail.”

Dorian felt himself opening and closing his mouth a couple of times and then frowning deeply. “I thought that was Cullen’s attempt at a joke!”

“According to Josephine, it isn’t.” Her expression translated to ‘this is news to me too and I’m pissed’. Dorian felt himself mirroring it, letting out a dark chuckle.

“Oh fantastic! We can’t afford new equipment but yes we can get a whole lot of bodyguards! I’d love to see dear, sweet Josie explaining that to our fearless leader: ‘Oh my love! I can’t bare to think of poachers and mercenaries terrorizing you so instead of sending money for things that will get you out of the middle of nowhere sooner...More people to feed and house! Oh, but I do so worry!’” Dorian was up and furiously pacing at this point, one hand stroking his mustache. He could feel the bodyguard’s eyes tracking him and a glance his way showed amusement on the man’s face. Well none of this was funny, so how dare he.

Instead of answering him, Cassandra just clicked her tongue and glared into empty space to the left of them.

“Wasn’t your boss shot recently?” The bodyguard’s voice was a low rumble like thunderclouds and other various pleasant things that reminded Dorian of home. He hadn’t thought of home for so long and the ache left by this man’s voice just set him more on edge. That or the lack of sleep.

“She’s fine, just a graze to her shoulder. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” Dorian stood, both hands on his hips and glaring at the bodyguard.

The man’s eyes roamed over Dorian’s figure and he crooned out a “I’m sure you can.”

What do they say about flattery? It will get you everywhere? Dorian smirked and felt the urge to preen. It had been a while since someone...appreciated him properly. He sniffed and addressed the bodyguard directly, “Listen, I’m sure you and your--exactly how many of you are there anyway?”

“Seven, including me.”

“Seven! Seven whole people! Look at you, you practically count as two! Where are we going to put you all--” Dorian tapped a fist to his forehead to rein himself in. “I am sure that you and your group are highly skilled and excellent to work with,” Josephine always did aim high “and I’m sure you are a decent fellow but we simply don’t have the resources for this, Mr…” Shit, he didn’t even know the man’s name and he was already dismissing him. This is probably how he got the reputation of being a snob. Well that, and his good taste.

The man let his face morph into another beaming smile and pulled himself a little straighter.

“The name’s The Iron Bull.”

“I take back everything nice I just said about you. Get out of my digsite before I have you arrested for actually wanting to be called that. In public.”

The Iron Bull just chuckled at Dorian’s flat expression, “You can just call me The Bull if that makes it better.”

“It does not.”

‘This man is going to be a nightmare’ was Dorian’s first impression of The Iron Bull.

**\------**

Their breathing was the only sound in the room for many minutes, then the silence began to irk Dorian but he refused to be the one to start this conversation. He began pacing just to make noise with the creaky wooden floorboards. He could feel Bull’s eye tracking him then the man sighed and let out a resigned “Sweetheart--” but Dorian found himself not wanting to let Bull control the conversation. He cut him off as he collapsed on to the bed laying dramatically in the center of it.

“Explain.”

Bull nodded and walked to the bed; slowly lowered himself down to the edge. His movements were careful and thought out, most likely for his own benefit since Dorian didn’t startle at confrontation so much as anger easily. And placating measures just irritated him more. But Bull needed those controlled movements and quiet moments for himself; a self reflection that helped him work through his own emotions instead of just feeding off of Dorian’s.

Despite everything he was feeling at the moment Dorian longed to touch Bull to reassure him that they weren’t so easily broken. He snaked a hand out to tap the Bull’s back. Bull let himself fall backwards, he turned his face to look at Dorian. Dorian placed a hand on the patched side of Bull’s face. He nuzzled into Dorian’s hand, taking a beat to respond.

“I care about you, Sweetheart. If we could just elope and ignore the rest of the world that’d be just damn fine.” He pulled Dorian into his side and placed his cheek on the top of his head. “But you care about the people in your life so much. You’re a passionate guy. Which for the most part is great...but why do I get the feeling that you’d be okay living two separate lives, one with me and the other with your parents.” Dorian remained quiet letting Bull talk.

Bull let out a large sigh. “I didn’t sign up to help you become a liar. But I don’t think you’ve really thought about what you signed up for. Not really.” He whispered as he took Dorian’s left hand and softly pet the silver ring he had given him.

“Are you offering me an ultimatum?” Dorian’s voice was so thin he barely heard himself. Bull nuzzled the top of his head, lips pressed to Dorian’s forehead.

“No. I’m helping you realize you’re not alone in this anymore. They didn’t run the first time you told them. And even if they do now I won’t leave you empty handed. I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel adored. Like they should have been, they should have never instilled you with doubts. We’ll make them see what I...what this whole fucking gang sees.”

Minutes passed by before Dorian pressed his face into The Bull’s neck.

“I want to give you closure, Dorian.”

“Alright.” Dorian whispered and Bull pulled him closer to kiss him, soft, lovingly, honestly.

**\------**

Alexius met Dorian when Dorian was 20 and too drunk to stand nor thank him for saving his life. Not that he understood how much Alexius saved him until many years and many miles later.

Dorian’s life at home had changed so much since that evening long ago and the bitter resentment grew inside him. It started affecting his schooling and being kicked out of three prestigious prep schools later, Dorian found himself avoiding his parents calls and drinking his way through bars all over the bloody country. Which is how he found himself mugged and slumped in an alleyway exhausted at being him. The noise of his muggers running off alerted someone passing by. As Dorian gazed up at the man checking to see if he was alive, he thought of the strange odds that his knight was once a guest lecturer at the second school his father had sent him too. As he blacked out he remembered Dr. Alexius clearly, the man had had presence and commanded the attention of a crowded room filled with rich, entitled teenage boys. But instead of harsh words or threats to call home, he simply used an almost cheeky charm. Not to mention the way he spoke of history and times long past had all of Dorian’s classmates avid listeners. Dorian had been captivated. It had been the first and last time he’d been so drawn to his studies. No other professor ever held a candle to that one lecture in Dorian’s heart.

When he awoke, he found himself in some comfy bed in what was clearly a guest room somewhere. He traced his thoughts and once he remembered his hallucination of Alexius of all people, he begins to laugh distressingly hard.

“What the--”

He suddenly saw someone startle out of the corner of his eye. Dorian quickly sat up and pushed through the wave of nausea overtaking him to stare at the young man in the room with him. Who in turn was staring wide eyed at Dorian. Dorian felt the man’s face was familiar but couldn’t place him. He squinted. The other man recovered and rolled his eyes, he grabbed Dorian’s hands and placed a glass of water and some painkillers in them.

“Okay, good morning Dorian. Father said to check up on you so considered yourself checked. I’m Felix, by the way.”

“The...boy at the front of the room during the lecture?” Dorian muttered as his thoughts caught up and he finished swallowing the pills.

“Yup, that’s me. Looks like we all remember each other. Yay.”

That was the start of a whole new life for Dorian. Alexius opened his home to him, housed him, tutored him and even wrote recommendations to get him back into school. Dorian felt himself caring again, about the little things in life and the big things. He reestablished contact with his parents, and appeased with him returning to school he hears his father unsaid words of praise in between the small conversations they have. It was always his tone, Dorian could always read the true meaning behind the man’s tones. Meanwhile in Dorian’s studies, his rapidly growing obsession with lost civilizations and missing link cultures flourished under Alexius’ tutoring.

Dorian threw himself into his studies and when he wasn’t nose deep into his texts he found himself building a rapport with Felix. It was an odd friendship at first, Dorian was haughty and untrusting of good things and Felix was more of a no-nonsense type of person. They argued and bantered, raised the eyebrow of Felix’s mother when their fighting grew louder. One day she sighed and said, “I wasn’t aware I had two sons.” At their confused expressions she explained, “you fight like squabbling siblings.” They both huffed their annoyance at that but that thought lingered in each of their minds. Their fighting started to morph into teasing as they relented to a truce.

As Dorian flourished in school and found himself relaxing into his environment he found that every time he had needed something or forgot to eat or any other tiny bad habit he had; Felix had been there with a quirk of a smile, a plate of food and a witty remark. Dorian began to think ‘if I had had a brother I wish it had been you.’ Felix would later tell Dorian that his first impression of him was “Dear Lord, Father, what have you done to our family.” Which made Alexius and his wife laugh and Dorian feel at home for the first time in a long while.

Years passed and he finds himself getting comfortable, which then led him to panic. Again he had a family but not one he’d truly talked with, there is a part of him he’d never mentioned and the fear of his father’s face from so long ago keeps Dorian from telling Alexius anything. He tells Felix though, accidently--or so he will forever swear. Felix reached over and patted Dorian on his knee, not once looking up from his book, “Alright.” That was it. Alright. As if wanting men was simple. Dorian was relieved to not lose his friend but the easy acceptance felt too much like neutrality, like silence too.

Before he can stop himself he hears himself say, “Can we talk about it?” an edge of desperation in his voice.

Felix finally looked up from his book, a wrinkle in his brow. Dorian tried to hold eye contact but felt himself losing, like he might start trembling at any moment. Felix nodded slowly twice, “Yes, Dorian, of course.”

Dorian talked for hours it felt, about boyhood crushes, his family, The Fight, his rule. He felt sick but light like a gourd hollowed out to become something new. Felix smiled at him and nodded and it’s perfect it all felt so terrifyingly perfect. Dorian had never felt like this for anyone. A deep caring bloomed in him for Felix, for everything that he was, all his habits and hobbies, smiles and frowns. He’s not just happier when the other is around, he’s lighter. Not as many secrets and not as many worries to carry by himself anymore. He feels guilty at times having Felix share his woes because he has his own to bear, but Felix would wrap an arm around his shoulder (or pat his knee or tap his cheek) and say, “I like being your friend, Dorian, there are worse things in the world than knowing you.” Sometimes Dorian wanted to kiss him, not as a romantic gesture but just for the intimacy of the act. Something special to share with him, something tender and sweet. How do you tell someone you love them dearly but you just aren’t _in_ love with them? How do you ask someone to stay forever but don’t have anything to offer in return?

A childhood illness of Felix’s returned, worse than before. Alexius put off Dorian’s tutoring and Dorian stopped everything in his life that had nothing to do with Felix. Dorian’s father asked him to return home, to leave them to their business but Dorian refused. He stood by the Alexius’ every step of the way, every doctor’s visit, every time the stress peaked and when either of the parents broke down. Dorian had never seen his father cry (a shadow of what could have been tears during The Fight) but he knew Alexius and his father were very different people.

Alexius was trying to reorganize his library when it happened. Dorian had offered to help; back turned when he heard a vase shatter on the floor. By the time he turned to look the damage was done, the final straw in Alexius’ strength. The next few minutes were filled with Alexius’ yells, “Useless! ALL USELESS” ripping books off the shelves, smashing another vase, more books slammed into the far wall. Dorian pressed himself in a corner and watched, he was not afraid of this man especially when Alexius finally quiets, as he leaned heavily on his desk hands planted to hold him up. In between the sobs he whispered, “I don’t want to lose him” and Dorian heard himself whisper back “Neither do I”. Alexius didn’t hear him and didn’t move all the while Dorian cleaned the library. As Dorian finished Alexius was by his side, a gentle hand on his elbow.

“You’re a good boy, Dorian. A good man.”

Dorian waited until he returned to his room to break down. Sliding down to the floor, knees pressed to his chest, arms wrapped around himself. He didn’t cry, just shook.

Felix’s doctors started changing their tunes, they start speaking of chances, extensions. Felix had _chances_ now. It’s not over but it’s something, something better. Dorian’s lessons start up again, he’s surpassing every challenge Alexius set down, he strived to be not just good but the best. Which is why he shouldn’t be surprised that Alexius applied to a graduate school for him. The surprise comes because it’s far. Really far. Across the sea and in a different country. Visits would be restricted to holidays at best, letters would take ages, phone calls expensive. Dorian tried to fight the feeling of being sent away and out of one’s hair.

“It’s all so much, Alexius, you must be joking. I’ve never even left the country before.”

The man sighed and Felix sat in his chair, book in hand like he’s not listening in.

“Dorian, these people have connections, skills you can learn, better yourself with. They can offer you experiences that I can’t. We’ve reached a point where staying here would offer no more to you. Go conquer the world, you deserve it.” He said wistfully, a resigned look in his tired features.

Dorian was moved and bitter all at once. Later he sat with Felix who chuckled and teased, “There are worse things than studying abroad.”

“Promise you’ll write me.”

“Every day.”

“And-”

“And I’ll call once a week. Go have fun Dorian, meet new people then destroy them with your superior intellect.” Dorian tells Alexius yes, then a week before he departed he went home, to say goodbye.

Home smells like always, spices and warmth. The sound his shoes make on the tiles are sharp and familiar. His parents’ welcome and an actual embrace from his mother was different. But Dorian was always starved for affection from them and remained quiet, pleasant. He won’t ruin this homecoming not this time. He’ll bite his tongue and scream internally about the little things, words and actions, that hurt him. Things he thought he might just be projecting, no one who loves you is truly that cruel? Was he bitter or were they oblivious, he can no longer tell.

He was playing a peaceful chess match with his father one afternoon. As they sat in the garden they enjoyed the humid air and the smell of the flowers the gardeners tended. Dorian felt stronger than the last time he was here, sitting across his father. He wanted to keep this moment, but he also wanted something more. He gathered his courage and took a gamble. What did he have to lose, he’s leaving.

“Felix Alexius is sick.”

“I’m aware. I sent Gereon a letter with our thoughts.”

‘What thoughts’ Dorian’s mind grated, ‘Want to trade sons? You’re doing well enough with mine, I can afford the medical bills on yours. It’ll be perfect!’ Dorian pressed his palms to his eyes, leaning back in his chair he regained his breath before he could make himself angry at his father when this time he had done nothing.

“Father, I need your help.”

Halward’s eyes snapped to Dorian’s. The stared at each other for a beat, Dorian thought he almost sees hope in his father’s eyes. Nonsense. Take the leap, Dorian Pavus, risk it all. For Felix. Because of Felix.

Halward waited for Dorian to continue.

“The Alexius family is too kind. It’s normally not a great fault of theirs but with my leaving and Felix’s situation not being cleared...I don’t believe anyone of them would be honest with me if I asked about his condition. They would put off telling me the bad news and I would find myself,” weak, compromised, everything you don’t care for--”worried.”

His father tilted his head, not looking away.

“You want me to give you information on Felix’s illness. While you’re gone.” Not a question but confirmation. With normal families this would not be a big request. But for Dorian, he was putting his heart on the line. Either his father said no, kicked him out, accused him of caring too much for this Felix...Dorian could lose so much. But not knowing about his friend felt almost worse.

“If you please.” Dorian found his mouth carrying on, felt shaken when he said, “He’s all I have.”

It was not even really the truth. He had the Alexius family as a whole and even his parents--he hoped--but it felt like something he couldn’t keep in. His father looked at the board once more, studied the pieces and moved his knight. He wasn’t looking up.

“Alright, Dorian, I promise. I will do that for you.” Dorian wanted to cry then, not once during the worst of Felix’s illness, but now. A promise that his father will write him, report on the important people in his life. Because he cares for Dorian. And Dorian just wanted to scream _How can you love me so much and still not enough_.

Dorian leaves the country, leaves everyone he loves behind.

**\------**

They lay on the bed as they held each other for near an hour. Dorian only knew the time because his travel clock sat ticking on their nightstand. Bull was fading in and out of sleep, a habit of his whenever he spent a lengthy amount of time laying down. Dorian stroked his fingers over Bull’s features mapping all his favourite scars and marks.

Dorian would be lying if the thought of the future didn’t scare him. He always figured that was why he loved ancient history so much, focusing on the mistakes of other cultures made him feel a tiny bit more superior. It was silly theory but the past was so easy to study and learn from where as the future gave him nothing. ‘Not nothing’ he chastised himself, ‘the future will give you Bull.’ Warmth spread through Dorian and pushed away the tendrils of sleep reaching for his relaxed body.

“Darling, can I kiss you.”

The Bull’s eye snapped open so fast, Dorian couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Always, Sweetheart.” Then Bull tugged their bodies closer, kissing first Dorian’s cheeks then his forehead and finally his lips.

The kiss was slow at first, all opened mouth tenderness. Dorian tugged at The Bull’s lower lip, biting a tad harder than normal. The groan it got him had Dorian pressing closer to Bull’s body. The warmth of the day combined with their rapidly growing heat had sweat glistening down Bull’s chest. Dorian couldn’t help running his hands down those pecs, brushing lovingly along Bull’s nipples. Bull let out a growl and abandoned Dorian’s mouth to suck wet kisses down his neck. Dorian’s breathing was already a series of gasping pants. He’d never been so wound up before and knowing just what The Bull could do to him had him aching from his imagination alone.

The Bull had pushed aside Dorian’s shirt to suck deep red marks on the man’s collar bone. Bull’s hands tucked under the shirt, breaking his mouth away to pull the piece of clothing clean off Dorian’s body. Dorian enthusiastically threw his arms up to help, nearly clocking Bull’s chin. Bull’s laughter rang out and he pounced on his lover, pinning him properly to the bed. Bull’s forearms braced themselves beside Dorian’s head as he grinned down at the man.

“Someone’s eager!”

“That would have been a proper tease, Darling, if you weren’t sporting this.” Dorian lifted his thigh to brush against Bull’s trapped erection. Bull brushed a hand to muss up Dorian’s hair and leaned down to give another sweet and deep kiss. He slowly lowered his body, not putting his full weight, aware that he could suffocate Dorian that way. ‘But what a way to go’ Dorian had responded one time. A part of Bull still couldn’t believe that he had this man in his bed.

As Bull began to slowly grind against Dorian, the moans the other man made increased. Dorian used to be so quiet in bed but gradually over time that had changed; neither had noticed until someone had mentioned it in passing (Krem, having had to sleep in the next tent over from them). Bull loved every moment though and Dorian craved the fire his sounds lit inside Bull.

Bull pulled back, Dorian’s hands grasping at his chest to bring him back down. A whine, an actual whine left Dorian’s throat. Both men blinked at each other then Bull laughed so warmly as Dorian buried his face in his hands.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that.” Dorian’s voice was muffled behind his hands.

Bull grinned as he began freeing Dorian from his fashionable and confining pants. “No can do, taking it for the compliment it was.” Bull did another one of his ‘winks’ and continued tugging Dorian’s pants off. Dorian arched his back to help rid him of his clothing then once free leaned forward to slap Bull’s hands away from his own belt.

“Nope, this is my job. Ridding you of your awful clothes is the greatest pleasure I get from our bedroom adventures.” Dorian sent a coy look up at Bull who smirked in response.

“I’m gonna pretend to believe that.”

“Do what you must, Darling.” Dorian purred as he whipped Bull’s belt off with a flourish that he knew aroused the other man.

Bull’s face lit up at the loud cracking sound the belt made. He brought his hands to run through Dorian’s hair as he watched him unbutton and push his pants down.

Once Bull’s hard on bounced free and his pants discarded, Bull grabbed Dorian and tossed him up the bed. Dorian loved the ease with which could even do that--the man once threw him over his shoulder and carried him clear across camp (without anyone seeing amazingly) not even breaking a sweat. That was also the first time they had tumbled into bed together; what a glorious evening that had been.

Dorian resettled himself and beckoned his lover closer. Bull quickly positioned himself again this time sliding his hands down all of Dorian’s beautiful, soft skin. Bull took up kissing Dorian’s neck again which the other man accommodated by tilting his head back. Dorian raised his arms to grip the bed frame as Bull began nibbling down his collar bone, then licking a stripe right up the middle of his chest. Bull teased his way over to one of Dorian’s nipples and nipped it into a hardened peak. Dorian squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, his whole body on fire and his cock dripping with need. He raised his hips to try and grind against Bull’s bulk but the other man placed a strong hand on his hip. A frustrated hiss left Dorian’s mouth but was soon distracted by Bull’s warm wet lips encircling his nipple and lavishing it relentlessly. Bull worked at one nipple then switched to next, tugging gently on them at first but Dorian’s gritted hiss of ‘harder’ had Bull giving Dorian a sweet zing of pain that had him arching into it.

The hand on Dorian’s hip was rubbing soothing circles. The hand started to travel farther south and Dorian groaned in delight. Which soon turned into annoyance as Bull by passed his cock and smoothed over Dorian’s inner thigh. Bull lifted his thigh up and pulled Dorian forward to spread his legs a bit more. Dorian’s annoyance faded as Bull’s hand appeared at the base of Dorian’s cock. Bull stroked up once, twice and then left to gently cup Dorian’s balls. He lightly squeezed and Dorian let out a moan of neediness. His lack of commentary on his pride showed the Bull how close his Sweetheart was. Not wanting to torture his lover any further, he lifted his hand to tap two fingers on Dorian’s lower lip. Dorian groaned. He sucked the digits in, wetting them thoroughly, letting his tongue flick and lave around the fingers, reminding the Bull just how good his tongue could be. Bull was breathing deep through his nose, Dorian’s mouth always made him a little too far gone, and opening his mouth now would unleash a stream of deep aroused growls.

Their eyes met and Dorian sucked the digits deep as he winked up at The Bull. Bull gently tugged his hand away and dived back in for a prodding kiss. His tongue paid proper respects to Dorian’s superior skills. Meanwhile his wetted hand skated down Dorian’s body and past his balls to rub just right underneath. Dorian quickly threw his arms around Bull’s neck and sucked hard on the man’s tongue, pouring his moans into Bull’s mouth. Bull’s fingers rubbed up and down, flicking the edge of Dorian’s hole as they went.

“Bull, please.” The please was drawn out and Bull was gutted. This man was so fucking beautiful.

Bull slid a finger inside of Dorian’s hole, keeping an easy but quick pace. Dorian spread his legs further apart and began to undulate his hips to press back against Bull’s finger. After a few more thrusts Bull added the second. He slowed the pace and curled his digits to press up against Dorian’s walls, brushing hard against the man’s prostate. Dorian threw his head back, all sound choked off as Bull targeted that one spot and rubbed his fingers in a circular motion. The build up had Dorian on the edge but the outright onslaught to his senses had him give in to release. His cum striped his sweaty stomach and climbed as high as his lower ribs. Bull went back to gentle thrusting coaxing Dorian through the high and kissing softly at his jaw.

“Good, Sweetheart?” Bull smiled up at him.

Dorian’s soft laugh was broken up by gasping breaths, “Always.”

Bull slowly pulled his fingers out and moved more of his weight over Dorian. He pressed his aching cock into the V of Dorian’s hips. Thoroughly satisfied with Dorian’s contentment he watched his lover’s blissed expression as he thrust slow, rubbing himself off on the most beautiful man he’d met. Dorian reached up for his face, one finger stroking the eye patch.

“We forgot to take it off, again.” He mumbled sleepily. Despite his bone tiredness he rubbed his hips against Bull to give his lover more friction. Dorian untied the patch and tossed it off the side of the bed. His warm smile as his hands framed Bull’s face was what did it for Bull. His orgasm snuck up on him and he leaned forward to press his face into Dorian’s neck. Inhaling the sweet scent of sex and sweat. As he came he slowed his hips and finally just laid there.

Dorian tapped the back of his head. “I adore you but you’re heavy.”

Bull chuckled and rolled off, he tugged Dorian along with him and they laid there breathing deep and enjoying the moment.

Dorian stroked Bull’s stomach and hmmed in thought. He lifted his chin to look at Bull who was already watching him.

“Promise me it will be alright.”

Bull’s smile turned a bit regretful, “Can’t. Not really anyway.”

“Lie to me then.” Dorian’s smirk was all cheap bravado.

Bull snorted and leaned down to kiss Dorian’s forehead. “It’ll be alright, hell it’ll be peachy keen.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and settled into sleep. His thoughts whirling.

Hours later he still couldn’t sleep despite being tired and satisfied. The what ifs just wouldn’t leave him alone. Dorian pulled his legs up, curling into himself. He raked a hand through his hair, letting the feel of the buzzed areas try and calm his beating heart. He watched The Bull sleep for a few moments letting the day sink in. He muttered a quiet ‘fuck me’ to the darkness. Bull apparently wasn’t asleep since he mumbled out, “Thought I already did.” Dorian groaned and let himself be pulled back into his lover’s arms.

**\------**

It wasn’t going to be a wedding. Dorian had learned years ago, at some dreadful holiday staff party trivia game, that Blackwall had been ordained for some reason or another. The details hadn’t been important at the time but now the fact that someone could marry them out in this blasted jungle...Dorian thought that would be that. How he thought it would be that simple with the friends he had. It was all a series of bad timing, Dorian would claim. Josephine had been visiting the site to check on her investment but was more checking on Callum, who was over the moon to be reunited with her dearest Josie and of course someone--not pointing fingers but Cole--had told her of Dorian and Bull’s news. Apparently NOT having a party to celebrate was just not going to fly. That part Bull and Dorian had whole heartedly agreed, drinking and relaxing for a short time with their friends was something they both loved and honestly probably needed. But as the week went on both Bull and Dorian were stopped by a busy Josephine asking a dozen questions about their tastes, favourite colour schemes, favourite music, how they felt about tuxes versus suits. It was around the time when Dorian and Krem were cornered in the mess tent by the woman asking about flower arrangements, that Dorian felt the last of his nerves snap and he exclaimed, “What are you doing? Planning my wedding?”

She crossed her arms and sniffed at his interruption. “Of course! Honestly Dr. Pavus please stop asking silly questions.”

He wasn’t sure what to say or do, he just stood there gaping. He did punch Krem in the arm who had laughed so hard he had snorted water out of his nose.

**\------**

Everyone who had come along to town gathered in the lobby the next morning. Their duffle bags (and Sera’s actual trash bag because she once mentioned something about zippers) littered the floor while Cassandra checked them out of the motel. Dorian was bone tired both emotionally and physically. He always forgot how limber he could actually be when fucking, not in a tiny cot but a proper bed. He was certainly feeling pleasantly sore. He leaned on Bull as he waited for Cassandra and their ride to arrive. They would drive up until a certain point and then would have to hike the rest of the way to the site--one of the reasons so few people often came into town with them. Dorian was looking forward to stretching out his muscles, though he would never admit it since the first time they arrived in the jungle he had complained the entire way. Now everyone had this expectation of his pampered ass and not complaining often led to his colleagues giving him strange looks or pestering him non-stop. It was annoying how they cared or at least he convinced himself that.

“You’re quiet this morning Dr. Pavus.” Dorian spared a glance towards Blackwall, the man knew he preferred being called Dorian but still liked to poke at him anyway. Well fine Dorian could ruffle the man’s feathers too.

“Yes, good sex will do that.” He more felt than heard Bull’s rumbling laugh from his position of leaning against Bull’s chest. Sera let out a too loud “OOOHHHHH” for this early in the morning and Varric seemed to share a look with The Bull. Blackwall gave Dorian a resigned look and made a point of turning away, which usually meant he was ignoring him for the rest of the day.

“In front of the children, Doc?” Varric’s smirking face made Dorian want to roll his eyes.

He watched as Sera began to give Varric grief for calling her a child, Cassandra returning just in time to cut off the ranting. Dorian felt himself slip more and more into a mood as they made their way to their bus. The sex had been a fantastic distraction one he would love to repeat but now that Bull was focused elsewhere--chatting with Cassandra, someone who had been just as opposed to his being hired and now look at them, close friends--Dorian sunk into his own thoughts. Four weeks at best before that letter arrived at his parents’ home. Who would be the first to read it? Would it be better or worse with his mother or father? What would his father’s face be, what would he sound like as he and his wife discussed their near estranged son. Would it ruin everything Dorian had achieved, that pride his father had for him and always hinted at in his letters. Dorian couldn’t help thinking he should have called Felix when he had the chance, had him try to intercept the letter somehow (though how he would while in a whole other city was a detail Dorian was willing to overlook in his fantasy). But something held him back from doing so. It wasn’t just the possible inconvenience to Felix but something else that Dorian couldn’t quite put a finger on.

The entire route back to the dig, Dorian was silent left to his own thoughts. Bull let him have his peace by distracting the rest of their small group with idle chatter. Dorian missed Sera’s glances his way.

**\------**

Dorian’s phone began blasting a song that he had grown sick of long ago; as it pulled him out of sleep he considered it still part of his dream. It was Callum’s ringtone after all but Callum was somewhere in the jungle with no reason to call. The ringing stopped and Dorian accepted it as a waking dream until the song started up again. Groaning, Dorian rolled over in his very large and comfy bed to snake a hand out and bat at his phone. Finally managing to pull it towards him he checked the screen and yes Callum was indeed calling him. Against his better judgement Dorian snuggled back into his covers and hit answer on the phone.

“Cal what the fuck.” Was what he meant to say but it came out as a sleepy grumble.

“Dorian! Dorian wake up! You need to BE here! Dorian!” Callum sounded far too awake and there was an edge to her voice that he couldn’t quite decipher. It woke him up a little and resigned, he flopped over onto his back, rubbing a hand over his face to push the sleep away.

“Callum do you actually know what time it is here?”

“Dorian you need to wake up and be here RIGHT NOW!”

That confused Dorian because even if she was in trouble--which unlikely since she had ‘Mr Boring and Safety’ Blackwall with her--it would still take him hours to fly to her. Huffing out an annoyed sigh he ran through all the possible scenarios of horrible things that could have happened to her. None of which would warrant a phone call in the middle of the night. She was normally so caring about those sort of things, even feeling bad for sending late night emails.

“Please calm down and explain because I have no idea why you want me to get on a plane in the middle of the nigh-”

“We found them Dorian! We flipping found them!” Now her voice had elevated to an excited squeak. Even then she still refused to swear, Dorian found it almost adorable after years of finding it naive. The haze of sleeping was quickly leaving him as his brain tried to piece together what she meant. He found himself trying not to hope that what she meant was…

“Dorian we found a CITY.” In the background of the call Blackwall’s laugh rang happy and true.

Dorian felt his heart stop. He slowly sat up and felt his hands turn numb. This had to be a prank. Had to be. But Dorian knew deep down it couldn’t be, the rest of the team had their cruel streaks, their defensive mechanisms or bluntness. But Callum and Blackwall had remained earnest all these years. Dorian felt too old to dream and yet...He swallowed down the emotions creeping up his throat and took a deep breath.

“What do you mean. Be clear, Callum. Please.” He wasn’t above begging at this point if what he was hearing turned out to be true.

Callum began laughing but it was wet sounding and hiccupped breaths interrupted her speech.

“We-we did a last sweep. This was going to be our last week for the next three years!” He didn’t have to have her tell him that. He was painfully aware of their university rapidly losing interest in their “pet project”. Even more so after Academy deemed their research unworthy and all but made them the laughing stock of the Anthropological community.

“A-And there was this, this area out here. It’s so overgrown and guides hate walking it but we begged. We bribed a guy, Dorian! I have never in my life actually bribed another person for personal gain--”

“If what you’re saying is what I think you’re saying. This is no longer personal gain, Cal.” Dorian stared unseeing at his bedroom wall. What this could mean for the world, for how people see the world. If Callum actually did it…

Callum let out another laughter turned sob and began yelling, “It’s there! It’s been there the whole time! It’s buried and sunken but it’s beautiful and THERE!”

Dorian would lie later when retelling this story editing out the tears he couldn’t stop from flowing. He started laughing along with her as his whole body shook.

“It wasn’t just a temple or a-a kitchen or some type of bloody outhouse! It’s a whole.” She choked on a breath and Dorian felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. “It’s a whole flipping city.”

His ears rang, he felt himself becoming lightheaded and when he looked down it was because he was now somehow standing. As he began rushing around his room, dragging his suitcase out of his closet he heard Callum whisper--almost like a prayer.

“We found them. They’re waiting for us to tell their story.”

Dorian booked the next flight out and finally clocked in those sabbatical hours he had been saving all these years. Maybe he was an optimist after all.

**\------**

He felt Cole standing just behind him before the boy cleared his throat. Dorian had gotten better at sensing when the boy was near but he was always so damn quiet. Cole still startled some people when he would tap them on the shoulder and hearing him over apologise became a normal sound around camp. Varric once suggested putting a bell on him and Dorian thinks Sera actually bought a bell, but the plan never came to fruition.

“Yes Cole?”

Cole wasn’t making eye contact which was the very definition of a bad sign. Dorian internally sighed and assumed someone had dragged Cole into some favor or errand. The crew picked up on Cole’s eagerness to be helpful and some took full advantage. Which wasn’t very nice but Cole never complained nor seemed upset by it. Though sometimes when people wanted to break bad news to the Dreadful Dr. Pavus, they’d send Cole knowing that Dorian didn’t have the heart to tear the innocent boy down.

“Sera would like to know if you would like some cookies.”

“I beg your pardon?” Honestly he was surprised Sera was sending Cole to do her dirty work. To say they didn’t get along was an understatement.

“She was making some and wanted you to uh ‘come get them, now, right.’”

“Excuse me, what do you mean she’s _making_ them?”

“She wanted some but didn’t have any but she found things to make them. So she is making them.”

“...We don’t have an oven.”

“She didn’t need one.”

“Cole where is she.”

“The fire pit--” Dorian jumped and grabbed Cole’s arm, dragging them towards the fire pit. “Dr. Pavus, do you think she will let me have some?”

The sight that greets them has Dorian pick up his pace. Sera, Stitches, Krem and Rocky were sitting around the fire pit, an admittedly smaller fire was burning. As Dorian finally got close enough he saw Sera had on an oven mitt and was holding a frying pan over the fire. In the pan were three dollops of what he guessed were cookie dough.

“Are you seriously trying to _fry up_ cookies? You can’t honestly think this will work!”

Sera whipped around to beam at him her rapid movement causing the pan to wave around slightly. Her companions all leaned away and chorused a round of “watch it!”s and “whoa!”s.

“Ai there you are! Been wondering if you sod off and died in your precious temple or what has its.” She sent a cold stare Cole’s way. “Did your job now scoot.” Cole nodded and wandered off, Dorian made a note to get that boy some cookies that is if the frying pan actually worked.

Dorian walked over to one of the empty seats not yet committing to staying but not sure he should leave this possible disaster situation alone.

“This has to be a fire hazard.”

Stitches chuckled and offered Dorian a beer, “That’s why I’m here, bud.” Rocky leaned over to pat the medic heartly on the back.

Sera waved the pan up and down to get everyone’s attention. “Hey shuts it. My plan, my speech alright?” Clearing her throat dramatically she leveled her gaze to Dorian who took a sip of his beer. “Why you so blue since your hubby stuck it to you, like, few weeks back in town, yeah?”

Dorian sputtered his drink (even getting some on Stitches who took it surprisingly well).

“Sera that’s not...an appropriate question. Please stop forgetting I’m a professor.” Dorian wiped the beer off his stache and tried to look anywhere but at this group of people.

“Yea but you aren’t _my_ teach, mhm? No one here ain’t so how I see it we just pal-ing around. Jungle pals. Solving ancient mysteries and banging big, beefy bodyguards. Put that in Varric’s book and smoke it, right?” She grabbed a spatula from somewhere and began to flip the cookies. “So realsies you’re my friend or like weird uncle I guess, not like WEIRD weird uncles but like the cool kind that let you skip school to see some movie with pretty girls innit and like makes a bunch of jokes that are like code or something.”

“In jokes.” Krem offered.

“Right those. So. Like it or who cares you’re my friend.”

Dorian was touched, he never expected to bond with Sera of all people. She was a student--not even from their department, she was majoring in art--and so not worried about what people thought of her. Not really anyway no one is truly immune to gossip, but her fuck it attitude was so endearing. They couldn’t be more opposites but here they were. Friends.

“Alright.”

“UGH! Would it kill you to admit it that you like us assholes?” Sera pointed the pan to everyone there.

“No, I’m sorry I just.” He really didn’t know what to say.

“Sera, it’s a miracle you made him speechless.” Krem teased and his fellow Chargers chuckled along.

Dorian felt the back of his neck warm, a sign he was about to redden in embarrassment (he refused to call it blushing).

“Shut it.” Sera stuck her tongue at Krem who smirked back.

Dorian finally sat in the chair, staring into the fire and absorbing the fact that he was allowed to talk about things with the people he cared about. He trusted Sera, she wouldn’t use this against him, what reason would anyone here have to hurt him. He leaned his head back looking up at the jungle’s canopy. He could see Sera waiting on him to talk but not pushing. She was already onto the next batch of cookies to fry and the ones set aside to cool actually looked normal.

“Bull sent a letter to my parents, inviting them to the wedding.”

A cacophony exploded from the group around him.

“Whoa shit no way!”

“I told him he should have talked to you first-”

“Bet that’ll awkward as fuck!”

“SHUT. IT.” Sera screamed at the rest of them. They quickly quieted and returned to their drinking. Sera whirled on Dorian then, still wiggling the pan over the fire. Dorian did admire her ability to multi task.

“Lookit we all know you got a shit family,”

Dorian opened his mouth to argue and she covered his mouth with her hand not busy with the pan.

“But like ignoring it ain’t doing shit for you. You’re more shit now because of it. And Bull, see, he figures he can shit your shit.”

“Take a sip every time she says shit.” Muttered Krem.

“I’ll shit in yer drink if you don’t shut it, Aclassidick.” Sera tossed his way. Krem put his hands up in surrender.

“So. As I was saying. He wants an unshit life with you. But you got these like fucking traumatic pasts with your mysterious parents or whatevs. And okay sure be mad but not at the guy wanting to help. Get mad at your parents. Get riled and piss in the corners mad. Cause they told you couldn’t right well you did and you’re gonna be happy so jokes on them. Fuck em. You’ve got people.” Sera snorted angrily at the pit as if to mean ‘that’s that’.

Dorian figures not all of that speech was really about him but he got the point. Bull was not at fault for what Dorian’s parents had or hadn’t done. Bull made a choice for them, for their future. And here Dorian was dragging his feet because he was scared of losing something he probably lost years ago.

Dorian reached out and held Sera’s hand, she startled slightly but then squeezed back.

“You’re right Sera, you’re so very right.”

He spent the rest of the day with them and feeling at peace.

And damn, her those cookies were delicious. He stole five and gave three to Cole.

**\------**

Drinking with the rest of the crew on the dig was always an exercise in patience. Gathering so many different minded people around a fire pit was in theory a decent idea of winding down for the day but in practice usually a disaster. Though since Bull and his Chargers joined the dig, the nightly routine became more lively and good natured. There was something to be said of adding new blood to the mix. Maybe also seeing the cohesiveness of their group was inspiring to the dig crew. Everyone seemed to be a bit kinder, less on edge.

Except for Dorian. Having someone he was actually attracted to at the digsite 24/7 was not quite torture but close. His mood had been souring more and more as it became apparent that the bodyguards they couldn’t afford were here to stay. He tried not to let it affect his behavior but he still found himself snapping a bit harsher at Blackwall, having multiple detailed fantasies of strangling Solas, actually just walked away from Vivienne mid sentence and worst of all he found himself baiting Callum into arguments. Sweet, well meaning Callum. Dorian was sick of himself and sick of The Bull.

This night had him downing one too many beers and after countless questions from Varric--who for some reason still writing his fucking book about the dig--Dorian found himself ranting about the tiniest hints they’ve found there. Not quite enough to prove anything. A year in and still not much. Dorian asked Varric why he was still bothering with them all.

“What’s the point, Varric, are you really going to waste away in this jungle too?”  

“You know Doc, you and I have some things in common.”

“Why Varric I had no idea!”

“Easy there, not like that.”

  
“I was talking about being a dedicated and highly praised expert in my field, whatever were you referring to?” Dorian batted his eyelashes at Varric who shrugged.

“I’m just saying. You and I have our reasons for staying. We don’t have anything better to do right?” He laughed a little at his own joke but Dorian’s expression made it clear he didn’t find it humorous. “But then again I’m not trying to pick fights everywhere I go so maybe we are pretty different. You’re a prickly kinda guy in comparision to me.” Dorian felt his hand holding his drink twitch then tightened his hold. He knew it would only be a matter of time before people began to dissect him, stop taking him at face value and think there was more to him than what was even relevant to the dig. He felt eyes on him or well an eye and looked up from under his lashes to see The Bull softly gazing at him.

“Ya know, in my experience some of the spikiest fruit have the sweetest juice.” The Bull directed at Varric but didn’t quite break eye contact with Dorian. Dorian thought he heard Krem mutter a “subtle, chief, subtle.” but was too distracted by his offense to know for sure.

“Did you just call me a fruit?” Dorian’s voice nearly cracked.

The Bull threw his head back and roared with laughter as Krem buried his face in his hands.

Dorian stood quickly and emptied the rest of his drink in the fire pit, the flames licked brighter for a moment before settling again. “That was a fire hazard, my dear.” He could hear Vivienne’s light condescending voice call out to him as he stalked away from the group.

When he nearly reached the sleeping tents--a quiet part of camp thankfully--he heard someone jog up behind him. He turned around expecting anyone but The Bull, yet there he was looking almost...sheepish.

“Hey!”

Dorian eyed him suspiciously, “Come to poke more fun at me? Without an audience I don’t see much of a point.” He scoffed.

Bull’s face grew more serious and lifted his hands in a small placating gesture. “Look I didn’t actually mean to offend you but I am sorry it turned out that way. I respect you, okay?”

Dorian blinked at the offered apology. “You respect me? You don’t even know me.”

“I’m starting to see pieces though. Like this, all this,” Bull gestured to the camp at large and Dorian assumed he meant the dig, “You’re putting your all into it. That’s a big tell.”

“Considering if we succeed here I’ll be hailed for centuries as one of the most important Anthropologists of all time, I’m not really seeing your point.”

Bull stepped a bit closer, still a respectful distance but now the conversation seemed more...private.

“Yeah but that’s just a small part, and even if it wasn’t, you deserve this. I’ve been asking Callum questions about this operation and she says it’s just been you, her, Blackwall and Cassandra for years before someone even glanced at your research. That’s dedication, that’s passion. I respect hard work and I respect taking pride in that work.”

It was possibly the most Bull had ever spoken to him and yet it stirred something in Dorian’s chest. A faint flutter because oh someone had actually noticed. He’d been working with his colleagues for so long that it stopped being worth noting their achievements. But someone else had noticed, someone had thought to tell him.

Bull shifted his weight and tilted his head, a goofy smile spread on his face at Dorian’s expression--which he could only imagine was probably a tad too vulnerable.

“I might not understand every bit of info on this place, but I get it’s important to you, to the gang and I guess to history. So I promise you that Ms. Montilyet didn’t waste your money on me and my boys. We got your guys’ back.”

A beat of silence stretched between them, Bull was not the man Dorian had expected him to be. Time and time again the man just oozed kindness to anyone he interacted with. But for reasons unknown to himself he never expected to be on the receiving end of that kindness. Bitter, arrogant Dr. Dorian Pavus.

Bull went to say something else but Dorian felt himself choke out, “Thank you.” Too full of emotion, too raw. Perhaps the evening’s alcohol was finally catching up to him. Bull’s smile did that thing it did where it quirked up on one side, fond and usually reserved for his boys. The flutter returned to Dorian only this time making home in his stomach. Bull reached out and brushed a hand down Dorian’s arm, the contact with his skin lighting Dorian up.

“No need for thanks, Dorian. Sleep well.” He nodded once to Dorian and started off back towards the Chargers’ tent. Dorian felt dazed and warm. A dangerous combination. He rubbed a hand down the arm Bull had touched.

**\------**

Solas and Dorian had been spending the last two days going over the recent photos Lace had taken of the faded murals in one of the main chambers. Frustration was too weak a word at this point. It wasn’t that the images weren’t the highest quality--their tech could only go so far and Lace had developed a knack for photography--or even that they still didn’t know what the chamber’s purpose was (which would have made identifying the mural’s intent easier). No, all of that could have been overlooked. It was more of a personal thing see, since Solas and Dorian actually, sort of, maybe, kind of, possibly hated each other. Or at least Dorian was convinced Solas detested him. At first Dorian hadn’t had a problem with it, he knew he could be classest at times. You can’t grow up with the amount of money and influence his family had and not pick up a few bad habits. But he always made a point of agreeing when someone called him out on it and even apologizing if the situation merited it. But nothing he said or did ever worked for Solas. Even that, Dorian could ignore but the man also criticized his work. Dorian had never been more offended in his life! His everything went into examining and making the most accurate possible guesses about the ancient cultures of the world. But Solas always seemed skeptical, seemed to demand facts not guesses. Which wasn’t even possible. Short of time travel no one in the modern age would ever know the whole truth about these dead civilizations! They argued often about these standpoints and if Solas wasn’t so respected in the field, Dorian would have led him off a cliff long ago. It was one thing to respectfully disagree and offer varying viewpoints, it was another to act like a know it all about dead cultures.

Now every time they were forced to work together Dorian would hmm and haa over Solas’ predictions, document them, and then hand them off to Callum to deal with and cliff note for him later. She was a wonderful buffer for them but at the moment she was not around and Dorian could only ignore Solas for so long.

His pouting was put on hold when Cassandra entered the tent and walked straight towards him. Dorian raised an eyebrow.

“And what can I do for you today, Cassandra?”

“There’s a call for you. Vivienne sent me.”

Solas had been bent over his writing desk for the past hour and this was the first time he looked up. Dorian looked back and forth between them confused. Technically yes they had a satellite phone which was used only in emergencies (like when Callum was nicked in the shoulder by those poachers) or by the Big Three: the money, the network and the whatever Cullen does for them other than hire muscle and interns. (He did send Cullen flowers and a thank you card after getting engaged to The Bull, it was only polite.)

Dorian rolled his eyes, it was most likely Josephine hammering down the final details of the wedding before hopping on the flight here.

“Tell Josie that I’m not interested in the wedding details. I plan to show up, marry Bull and drink heavily.”

Cassandra looked awkward suddenly. It was the first and only warning sign Dorian was to get.

“It is not Josephine. The caller is claiming to be your mother.”

Dorian heard Solas harumph behind him and he should have turned on him and glared but his body felt frozen in place. He placed a hand to his heart to make sure it was still beating. This past month had been entirely too stressful he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“I’m sorry I must have heard you wrong.”

“I-” She began to speak but he cut her off.

“It sounded like you said my mother somehow got the number to our private, secure line and used it to just call me all of the sudden.”

Cassandra waited a beat to see if he was done. “Yes.” She turned to leave and all he could do was follow.

He remembered the date as they walked to the communications tent. It was four weeks give or take since Bull sent that letter. Meaning his mother must have read it. It was a possible explanation, most likely the truest one but his brain was wired to come up with multiple reasonings. Things like: Father is sick, Felix’s recovery took a turn for the worse, she’s leaving his Father, etc.

They made it to the tent and by now Dorian had worked himself up into a frenzy. Normally he’d be able to hide his inner turmoil but that facade was useless against Vivienne. She looked up from her station of radios and wires, her expression clear of any tells. ‘Vivienne has talked to my mother, that is terrifying.’ Dorian thought only because he imagined his mother would adore her.

Cass nodded to Vivienne and made her exit. Dorian was left to stare at the sat phone sitting innocently, light blinking signifying it being on hold. Dorian faced Vivienne who kept eye contact, a strength to her that Dorian could never quite match--and she told him often not to bother, it didn’t suit him well.

“Are you sure it’s my mother.”

“She had all the right information on you and the right verbal recommendation from Josephine. But the easiest way to solve your mystery, my dear, would be to just answer the phone.” Her expression was unimpressed with his stalling tactics.

Dorian ran a shaky hand through his hair and approached the phone. He sat in the chair opposite her desk and took the phone. Vivienne stood and made to leave. Dorian was surprised by that.

“What? Not staying to hear my painful personal drama?”

She gazed down at him, impossibly tall and solid. “My dear, I have a wealth of tragic missteps of yours I can recount. You are allowed to have some secrets.” She touched his shoulder with her fingertips an almost not even there connection, but Dorian understood. She left the tent and he connected the call.

There was static at first and then as the line connected he heard the soft humming of his mother. It was a nervous habit of hers, any time she left to her own she would hum senseless tunes. She had confessed once to him, long ago, that she had dreamed of being a singer. He had never asked why she hadn’t become one.

“Dr. Pavus speaking.” He couldn’t bring himself to not pretend, to put off the conversation for just a moment.

The humming stopped. A pause then a brassy chuckle rolled through the line. His mother always had a deep laugh, ladylike and well loved.

“I can’t believe you like being called that. It’s far too stuffy for your tastes, my child.” She spoke to him in their native tongue and it was almost a relief to him to not have this conversation in a forced language. As eloquent as Dorian’s speech was, it was exhausting constantly speaking your second language all day every day. He switched to match her.

“Mother. I would ask how you are but this isn’t the time or place. How did you even get this number?”

“Well considering you only answer your email once a month, I thought I should try different methods. I called the university and they got me in contact with a Ms. Montilyet who gave me this number and a sort of password. It was quite the ordeal.”

“Yes but why.” He hoped he didn’t know the answer though so far the conversation seemed light and not at all like a child about to be disowned.

“Your husband’s letter demanded extra effort.”

“He’s not my--” Dorian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he could pass this off as a cruel prank played on him. He nipped that thought in the bud, that wouldn’t be fair to Bull, to them.

“This is why I’m calling, Dorian, for clarification.”

“What clarification would that be.”

“Hmmm, well I suppose a few things.” She sounded quieter as if she was trying to find the right words. He doubted she wanted to start a fight so he began to buffer himself against whatever ignorant thing she might say.

“Do you love him?”

Of all the questions to ask that was not what he was expecting. Indignation stirred in him. Why would he be marrying this man, breaking his hard set rules for this man if he wasn’t completely in love with him.

“Excuse me?” He hadn’t meant to say it but it was out of his mouth.

“Dorian, I’m sorry I don’t know what’s the right thing to say.”

The wind was knocked out of his sails, of course she doesn’t. She never knew of the rules he made for himself or the quiet hell he put himself through. Because as much as his parents never spoke of it, Dorian never did either. Never tested the boundaries. What if the biggest obstacle was just a lack of knowledge on their part of what to say.

“Dorian, I want to see you happy. That’s all I want anymore.”

Dorian looked out into the jungle seeing the foliage creeping into their campsite and felt the weight of his mother’s words. She never thought it would make him happy. All these years and it was that childish idea holding them back from each other. He couldn’t even fully will himself to blame her assumption. It wasn’t an easy life, especially back home where people like him were still being incarcerated for it. He had forgotten so much of that out here in the jungle with all these people who could find so many faults in him but his sexuality was never considered one. Because in truth, Dorian was happy. Hadn’t truly been happy since he left Alexius’ home all those years ago. But now knee deep in soil and vines, he’s so happy.

They just listen to each other breath for a few minutes and Dorian scans the surrounding area to see if he can spot his Bull. He has the urge to kiss him and hold him. He looks down at his ring and smiles.

“I am happy. I wasn’t for a long time. But now I am.”

“Oh.” There is a whole world of meaning behind that ‘oh’ and for the first time Dorian feels confident in knowing he has years with his parents to search it’s true meaning.

“Has father read it?”

“Yes. He is not mad, darling. He’s…”

“My father.”

“He’s only wanted you happy and whole. Maybe not in the beginning but he’s been trying to find the right words for years now. He misses you.” It’s like a floodgate opened and she begins to speak quickly as if to get all her thoughts out at once. Dorian feels he owes her that.

“Felix will visit and have lunch with us and your father looks at him and all he sees is you. He hated Gereon those years you stayed with him. You were happy and had to be far away to be happy. The farther you went the more you seemed to grow. He feels he did that. Maybe he did. I’m not sure. We never wanted to hurt you but we did anyway.”

Dorian was silent for a moment. Giving that speech room to breath. To give him courage to say what he wanted to say next.

“I never stopped loving you two.”

His mother never cried once in her life, she bragged often about it, and she didn’t cry now but she didn’t have to cry for him to hear the grief and relief in her tone.

“We’ll see you at your wedding, darling.”

**\------**

He bought them rings. He bought them fucking rings and yet Dorian had yet to hear Bull even utter the word ‘Love’. Not like Dorian had said it himself but he had thought it, a lot. Probably from that first brush of Bull’s hand on his arm. That was possibly intense lust, but it certainly was an intense something. A whole lot of something.

The rings are beautiful, silver and solid. Dorian’s fits perfectly and he loves it, he loves it so much. Bull’s doesn’t fit at all, how he managed to get the perfect size for Dorian and not himself, Dorian’s not sure.

“I sorta just--” Bull’s holding his ring in his right hand and waving his left, “figured I needed a size up since you know,” he wiggled his two stubbed fingers on his left. Bull frowned down at the ring in his hand. He had managed to get the ring on but once on hung loose and would eventually wiggle off. Dorian moved into Bull’s space and grabbed the man’s left hand. He brushed his lips over the scarred digits. He looked up under his lashes and smirked up to his thoughtful man. Bull had that glassy aroused look in his eye that sat at odds with the goofy, affectionate grin he sported.

“We’ll get you a chain. Wear it around your neck, Darling, you clearly weren’t meant to wear it normally.”

Bull’s smile widens and reaches to pull Dorian closer, his left hand wrapped around Dorian’s waist. “You have the best ideas, Sweetheart.”

And just like that Dorian gets it. They have been saying it, love that is, with every ‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Darling’. They’ve been pouring their love into those words. And it’s perfect, even better than Dorian ever hoped for. Rules be damned. Dorian feels like he could conquer anything the world throws at him.

**\------**

Dorian does not feel like he can conquer anything right at this very moment.

“You need to breath, Sweetheart.” Bull huffed a laugh, leaning casually back against a wall arms crossed. He was distractingly handsome most days but this day was not one of those though he wished it were. Dorian stopped his pacing to throw a glare at the small group. Sera was perched on the railing posing as a barrier for the ‘arrivals gate’--which considering the airport was one single room, made things even more stuffy and cramped--she was busy staring off into space and swinging her legs violently. Krem had taken up residence on the floor by Bull’s feet, he had grabbed some outdated magazine and seemed to be actually reading it.

“I didn’t know you could read the language, Cremisius.” Dorian latched onto the first thought that popped into his mind, he wanted a distraction so desperately before he turned tail and fled this cramped airport. Krem only shrugged in response not bothering to look up which caused The Bull to let out a chuckle.

Dorian placed his hands on his hips, trying to get anyone’s attention by huffing an exasperated sigh. Bull’s attention didn’t count, he had been attentive all day and Dorian was...pleased alright yes, but still wasn’t sure if he deserved all this devotion.

“Why are you two even here?” Dorian looked back and forth between Sera and Krem.

Sera scrunched up her face, “‘m here to start a fight.”

“And I’m here to end it.” Krem added, rolling his eyes. Sera stuck her tongue out at him.

“Lovely! Just lovely, of all my friends to attend I’ve brought along the ones most likely to get me disowned!” Dorian began to pace again. “‘Yes hello dear parents, sorry it’s been years since I’ve visited how have you been? Me? Well I’m just fine! Oh! by the way have I introduced my good friends? Sera here has banged half the ladies in the bloody country and Cremisius? Oh he’s a doll! I once saw him drink a whole bottle of liquor and belch our national anthem! Such a marvelous sight, brought a tear to my eye--’”

Dorian found himself being swept up into familiar arms then Bull bending down to silence his rant with a smoldering kiss. The feel of Bull’s lips, comforting and strong, had Dorian melt into his lover’s arms. Wrapping his arms around the other’s shoulders he ended the kiss to catch a breath and rested his forehead against Bull’s. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Krem drag Sera over to the only vending machine on the other side of the room. Dorian closed his eyes and took in the warmth of Bull with the limited privacy the airport offered.

 ****

Dorian had done so many mad things in his life, had traveled the world yet he had never felt so scared. “I’m...worried.” He admits, keeping his promise to talk more to his soon-to-be husband.

“I know. You’re scared shitless.”

“Some comfort you are.”

“But you’re a brave son of a bitch, ya know. Sexiest thing about you really.”

Dorian couldn’t hold back the laugh of deliriousness. This was all mad.

A muffled voice came over the loudspeaker announcing the arrival of the plane. He pulled away to fix his clothes, check his hair and nervously run a thumb over his stache. The time it took for people to begin wandering out frayed poor Dorian’s nerves once again, all of Bull’s hard work gone.

Then there they were. His father’s eyes caught his and he felt himself release a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You ready?” He heard Bull murmur.

His fingers shook slightly as he grabbed The Bull’s hand.

“Yes. I think I am.”

They moved forward to greet Dorian’s parents.

 


End file.
